Chapter 2

Drew

Bella Summers has always been a klutz. When we were in high school, she fell on her ass and fractured her wrist. Another time, she danced straight into a pole, resulting in a huge black eye. She is so uncoordinated that long-distance running was the only sport she could participate in. Away from others with no equipment ensured she couldn’t hurt herself. Although untied shoelaces and misplaced branches were also a concern, it seemed to work on the whole. Her coordination took an unfortunate dive today, though.

Rubbing my hands together, I stare at the furry boots draped across the blue hospital chair with disdain. Those shoes are why I’m still here, stuck in Hope, Indiana, with a girl who would rather roast my balls than talk to me. If Bella hadn’t insisted on wearing those stupid shoes, I could have driven out of state before the storm hit. Hell, I would have even offered her a ride back home because I’m that kind of guy, but nope, we’re both now stuck in hell because she’s too stubborn for her own good.

Bella’s obnoxiously loud snores echo through the hospital room, and her mouth hangs open with the tiniest drops of drool dangling off the edge. It doesn’t matter that she sounds like a freight train when she sleeps; she’s still the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. Yup. That’s right. Even though Bella Summers hates me with the same passion some put into loving their favorite sports team, I’ve never been able to get her off my mind. I swear she was brought into this world just to taunt me.

The girl I could never have, but the one who was willing to stomp all over me.

Eyes so light blue, they almost looked clear. Thick blonde hair and lips so pouty she could give Kylie Jenner a run for her money. For all intents and purposes, Bella Summers is perfect…Until she opens her mouth.

I’m all too aware that my life trajectory changed the day I accidentally threw a football at her head, and it wasn’t because I met her.

No. It was because I met David Summers.

My mentor. My coach. Her dad.

He took me under his wing when I was just thirteen years old and he hasn’t let me out of his sight since. Not that I’d venture too far away, anyway. I’d tell anyone who asked it was because of football, which seemed all too plausible. He was the reason I got into Tampa Bayshore High and was considered for Division I colleges in the first place, after all. But it was more than that. We had a connection, one that I lost with my own father when I was ten. Coach Summers was there for me when I had no one else to look up to, and for that reason alone, I’d follow him anywhere.

A year before I graduated high school, he was offered the job of head coach at my father’s alma mater, St. Michael’s, so it was a no-brainer that I’d join him. I just didn’t realize his eldest daughter would be following just a year behind. I was under the impression she was moving to London, which suited me just fine. Out of sight, out of mind. But then she waltzed in on the first day of school this year and threw me for a loop.

Bella takes a deep breath, and her snoring gets louder. I know she’s on the verge of waking when she shakes her head, moaning in displeasure.

“Am I in heaven?” Her groggy voice floats through the air, and if you look close enough, you can see the slightest of smiles curving at the corner of her lips. The drugs they gave her must have been damn good because you’d never know her shin bone was sticking out of her body two hours ago.

“Good morning, Sunshine.” I let the words roll off my tongue and watch closely as the calm, serene expression sprawled across her face crinkles. Ah, there’s the scowl I’m used to.

Ticked off and arrogant. The Bella I was always around walked like she had a stick up her ass but refused help to remove it.

The girl had it out for me. Hated me ever since the moment we met, and I’ve always found it a little strange. Not that I boast about my looks or charm, but I’ve never had a shortage of girls showing interest in me over the years.

Not Bella, though.

“Oh, God. If you’re here, that means I’m in hell,” she deadpans. Her eyes are still closed as if she’s avoiding facing the inevitable.

“Is that any way to talk to your savior?” I adjust the fabric of my beanie hat, hating that I left my cap in the car. She lolls her head, and when she finally opens her eyes, she narrows them in my direction.

I push out my tongue, hiding my smirk as I look for Coach’s number on my phone.

“Where am I?” Bella looks around the room like a frightened bird before her eyes land on me.

I stop scrolling on my phone to look at her with a raised brow. “Don’t you remember?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I did, Drew. Oh god, is this like that Kathy Bates movie? You’ve kidnapped me in a blizzard. You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” I’d laugh at her hysterics, but knowing her, she’d scream for help, which could lead to a long, awkward conversation with the nurse I introduced myself to earlier.

Shaking my head, I call Coach. “Wow, Belly. I know you hit your head on the ground, but I didn’t think it made you delusional.”

“Why am I here, Drew?” she asks with enough hostility to start a small war.

“You broke your leg,” I answer, using my eyebrows to point at the ferociously neon green cast wrapped around her shin and ankle.

She smacks the cast violently, probably imagining it’s my head. “I can see that, Einstein. But how the hell did I get here?”

I sigh, running a hand through my sandy hair. I wasn’t looking forward to explaining this, considering I already knew she’d blame me for those stupidly high heels and her terrible walking form. “Well, after you so gracefully tripped on the ice, you passed out. The ambulance wasn’t going to come for a few hours, and I couldn’t exactly leave you there to die of hypothermia, so I thought I’d drive you to the hospital instead.”

“McCallister?” Coach’s gruff voice fills the room. I’m not surprised that he answers on the first ring because Bella has him wrapped around her little finger, and she doesn’t even know it.

“Daddy,” Bella yells and leans over, snatching the phone out of my hand.

“Belly, are you okay?” The urgent tone reserved only for his daughters comes out, and I roll my eyes. It’s as if Bella can’t fend for herself. Doesn’t he realize that she’s like a pit bull? Feisty as hell and never backs down. Some might call it arrogance, but I call it being raised well. Yeah, she’s a hard-ass, but I love her conviction and passion…Even if that passion is directed at hating me.

“I’m fine,” she huffs, pouting her bottom lip, before she looks me up and down with disgust. No surprise she’s acting like I’m the reason she broke her leg. She’d blame me for anything if she had the chance. “I’m just sorry I didn’t come home with you last week.” She flicks at the snot-colored cast, and I hide my smile. I may have had a say in the color when we came in. Carrying an unconscious Bella in my arms through the hospital doors meant the nurses immediately thought I was her boyfriend and I didn’t correct them. So when they asked me what Bella’s favorite color was, I couldn’t help myself. St. Michael’s green because she’s such an avid fan of the football team…Not.

Coach sighs. “Don’t worry about that. I’m just glad you’re okay. Thank goodness Drew was there to help you. I’m not sure what I would have done if you’d broken your leg on your own in that blizzard.”

Bella draws her lips into her mouth, keeping her focus on the cast. She refuses to look at me, which I can only assume is because she’ll have to thank me, and that’s worse than losing to a girl like her. “He said he’ll look after you until I get there.”

“Look after me?” Her voice hikes and she rolls onto her side as much as possible with that cast holding her down. I’m guessing she has no idea that her gown doesn’t have a back since she’s flashing her yellow thong and very peachy ass in my direction. I drag my gaze away from her because I hate seeing the harsh purple bruise covering half her body. That fall was avoidable; if I’d gotten out of the car sooner, she’d be alright.

“I don’t need anyone to look after me,” she whispers sharply. “Especially not Drew.” I’d be offended if I wasn’t already expecting that reaction. “I can just hang out in my dorm on my own. No big deal.”

“And how do you plan on getting to your third-floor room without an elevator?” Bella purses her lips and drops her head. “What about food? Do you have anything to eat because you can’t get deliveries in that snowstorm? How are you going to get the food up there without help?”

“I… I….”

“Nope. Sorry, Belly. There’s no getting out of this. Drew will take you to his house, and you’ll stay put until I can get there.”

“Wait, you’re coming back?”

“I’m not exactly going to leave my oldest child stranded in a snowstorm with a broken leg.”

“But that means you won’t be there to have Christmas with Mom and Caity.” She sounds genuinely upset about the prospect, which surprises me because I thought she’d love making it all about her.

“Sorry to say this, sweetheart, but our Christmas won’t be ruined. I won’t get anywhere near you until the blizzard passes, which looks closer to New Year’s.”

I watch her face fall as realization settles in. “Wait a minute. I have to spend Christmas with Drew?”

“Don’t sound too excited,” I mumble and crack my knuckles. “You’re not my first choice either, B.” Like I’d leave my mom alone during the holidays to spend time with a girl who can’t stand me.

“But…” “No buts,” Coach interrupts. “You’ll let Drew look after you until I get there. I’ve settled your hospital bill, so you need to get yourself signed out and home before the weather worsens.”

Two prominent veins pop out of Bella’s neck, and I recognize those veins. They’re always out when she’s holding back how she’s really feeling. One thing’s for sure, she will take everything out on me when she gets off that phone. So, instead of waiting for that, I stride out of the room, looking for a nurse.

As I leave, I catch her last sentence. “I’d hardly describe Drew’s smelly football house as home.” I chuckle and shake my head before heading toward the nurses’ station. Bella’s always had a way with words, and for some twisted reason, I like it.

“Oh, Hon, I know you were passed out, but you should have seen how your boyfriend carried you in,” the nurse says, checking over Bella’s cast one last time. Bella shifts uncomfortably; her neck is strained because she’s forcing herself to look out the window, and away from me.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Could have fooled me. You looked like that couple in The Bodyguard . He came in all disheveled from the snow, and started yelling for help. He wouldn’t stop until you got the best care we had.” After that slight exaggeration from the nurse, she winks at me and looks back down at her checklist.

“No, he didn’t.” Bella sighs, still staring out the window.

“You two have been the talk of the hospital since you walked in this morning. So cute.” And that’s my cue to leave and get a wheelchair for Bella. I could carry her to the car, but I doubt she’d let me touch her when she’s conscious, let alone carry her out.

By the time I’m back in, Bella is at least looking at the nurse. “We’ve fixed the crutches to fit your height. However, I also showed your boyfriend how to adjust them if you need to. You’ll be wearing the cast for at least six weeks, but we expect you to return in three to monitor the healing.”

The nurse continues talking, but watching Bella’s face, I know she’s not listening. With a few shuffles in the bed and an eye twitch, I can tell she’s finally realized that her gown has no back. Too distracted to listen, panic fills her face, and her eyes dart around the room, looking for any spare item of clothing. Can’t wait to see her face when I tell her I was too busy dealing with her well-being to spend much time dealing with her broken suitcase and picking up frozen thongs from the street.

“Well, if you don’t have any other questions, I’ll leave you to it. The weather is getting worse, so you best be on your way; otherwise, you’ll be stuck here until after Christmas,” She laughs, but I can tell Bella is considering that as a viable option.

The nurse shuffles out, and I look back at my reluctant houseguest. “Come on, roomie. It won’t be that bad. I’ve got hot chocolate and marshmallows, after all.” I smile at her, a peace offering if you will, but she doesn’t return the gesture.

Falling back onto the bed, she closes her eyes and huffs out. “Drew. Where are my clothes?”

I scratch the back of my head and offer her a crooked smile. “Guess you don’t remember much about the fall? Your skirt buckle caught on some railing, ripping it straight from your body. That’s why I used my jacket to cover you up.” There’s no emotion on her face, and if it weren’t for the topic of this conversation, I’d argue that she almost looks content.

With closed eyes, she states, “That doesn’t explain where my shirt is.”

I shrug, heading over to my bookbag. “The gown is protocol. I put your shirt in my bag, along with some of my shorts, since the clothes I could salvage off the street from your suitcase were wet.” Pulling out the clothes, I toss them in her direction, purposely hitting her face because, why not? When she pushes the fabric off, she looks horrified. “You can wear those until we get home.”

I turn around to give her a little privacy and hear her cursing my name under her breath. I bite my tongue, imagining her trying to do anything with that cast on. After a few minutes of struggling, I hear the rustling stop. I don’t hold my breath as I wait for her to ask for help. She’s stubborn as a mule, albeit a lot more attractive.

“Drew,” she drawls out reluctantly. “I need your help.” I’m surprised she used those words, but it’s not like she has any other choice.

As I walk over to her, she holds out my green shorts, looking at the floor with disdain. “Is it okay to move this?” I pluck at the bedsheet, and before I can do anything, she bunches the fabric up to cover her groin. Guessing she forgot I was the one to protect her modesty earlier.

“I just need you to put the shorts on over the cast. I can do the rest.”

“No problem.” I do as she asks, noticing her skin prickle with goosebumps as the fabric skims across her smooth thighs. Once the shorts are in place, I turn away and shake the naughty thoughts plaguing my brain. She didn’t seem to notice my lusty glare, but she never has. Too caught up in her hate to see what’s staring straight at her. Or who.

I hear what sounds like her legs flicking over the side. “I’m ready,” she says somewhat reluctantly, and I roll the wheelchair in her direction.

Her eyes track the chair, calculating how she will make this move without asking for my help. I cock a smile, waiting for the show.

Pushing her hips forward, she slithers down the bed until her good foot is on the floor. Then, clutching the bed bars for dear life, she almost throws herself toward the chair. I hold the handlebars on the chair tight so that she can maintain some balance.

Her butt’s in the air, and I can’t see her face because her hair is so messy, but she’s still refusing to ask for help. Twirling her hips around, she aims her butt cheeks at the seat but sadly misses, whacking her ass crack against the armrest and yelping like an injured dog.

“Everything okay?”

She hasn’t moved her bowed head in minutes, and the only reason I know she hasn’t passed out is because she’s letting out a breath of air like she’s a deflating balloon.

“I’m fine.” It’s a squeak, but better than nothing. She eventually drops to the seat, and I raise her broken leg to the rest, so she doesn’t have to.

“Ready to go?” Bella refuses eye contact but gives me the slowest, most self-pitying nod I’ve ever seen.

“As I’ll ever be,” She sighs.

“Can’t wait for this either, B,” I retort.

As I roll her to my car in an uncomfortable silence, I wonder how on earth we will get through this next week without her killing me.